


i’m proud of you

by madnaae



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Content Ending, Dream is a good friend, Fix It, George is smitten, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, MCC9 aftermath, but i prefer romantic, could be read as platonic or romantic, george centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26766859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madnaae/pseuds/madnaae
Summary: “None of his other teammates seemed to be beating themselves up this bad about it, so why was he? . . .George knew that deep down, the thing that was eating away at him the most was letting Dream down.”
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 294





	i’m proud of you

They had been 2-0 and George had gotten too cocky. The end was so near he could practically feel the cool metal of the winner’s coin with the tips of his fingers. Their lead had been so good, just one more victory, and the Green Guardians will have won the entire event. 

So maybe George didn’t try as hard. When given an arrow, he simply aimed and he shot instead of strategizing and taking a moment to try and deduce the opposing team’s movements. He was so sure that his own team had this in the bag, I mean how could they not? With a 2-0 lead and an amazing team of skilled and focused members, he felt as if he could just sit back in his chair and let the dub fall into his lap. 

Until it became 2-1.

And then 2-2.

And before George knew it, his screen had gone red. He had been shot, died, and was officially out of the game. There was one of his teammates left, against three others of the opposite. A one versus three and George could see the end again. Except for this time, he wasn’t touching a victory coin; this time he was looking at his competition as their block figures jumped around in celebration. He could see himself staring at them while everyone around him laughed and cheered, but it wasn’t for him. 

The 3v1 became a 2v1 before George’s eyes and a small spark of hope arose in him. He shifted towards the end of his chair, his fingers clenched into fists with suspense. He felt like he was watching it as a fan rather than competing in it himself. Is this the stress the thousands of people watching felt? 

He was opening his mouth to say some words of encouragement, anything that could give his teammate some extra confidence so that they would win this, when another shot was fired and hit. 

*Blue Bats win MCC!*

Was the message that flashed across his screen. He had lost. George and his team, after coming so far and playing so hard, had lost. 

The next half hour was a blur to him. All he wanted to hear was Dream’s voice. He knew the man would be ready to pull up receipts and statistics out of thin air that would’ve stated the Green Guardians should’ve won. He knew Dream would tell him that it was all okay and that he’d get it the next time. But he didn’t get to talk to him. 

He spent his time wandering aimlessly around the MCC beginning map. He felt a weight on his shoulders of being so, so close, and then losing it. His head and gotten too big and he assumed that the win was in the bag. He should never assume until it was definite; he choked as a result. 

Sapnap, Dave, and Eret were all still talking to each other and having fun, just recalling events and talking about strats they used; the ones that worked, and the ones that didn’t. George stayed quiet and began up some man-made volcano built from blocks in the lobby. 

He felt a smile come on his fade when Wilbur and Tommy started acting like he was a god walking, pulling out the fan-used nickname he’s heard so much. Maybe they sensed his disappointment, or maybe they were just good friends, but they treated him like royalty and had a few laughs. 

Then Sapnap left, and eventually, George decided he was tired and done for the day. Usually, after these events, he’d stay for several more hours to play other games, but he couldn’t bring himself to. All the other times before this, sure he’s done good, but he’s never been just one shot away from winning. 

He felt drained. 

As he was about to leave, he got the notification that Dream had raided him, and with a fuck ton of viewers. Usually, he’d be excited about this, and put on the best smile he could to try and entertain, but at this point, it was no use. He gave his raid to Dave and said goodbye to his chat. 

He left all calls he was in and turned off his Twitch, logging out of Minecraft as well. George stared at his computer screen, the open Google browser being painfully bright on his eyes. He sighed and buried his head in his hands. 

None of his other teammates seemed to be beating themselves up this bad about it, so why was he? He knew it was just a game, a game that he’d have many more opportunities to win at that. For some reason, he just felt useless. 

Part of him thought he wanted to impress his audience, and now he looked like a fool who couldn’t make a bow shot. 

Another part of him felt bad for letting his teammates down. They had all gotten their shit together after the last time they were teamed and were lucky enough to get the same team a second time in a row! They practiced their communication and had talked previously before the event about certain strategies to win. And he fumbled it. 

But George knew that deep down, the thing that was eating away at him the most was letting Dream down. 

The man, the myth, the legend; his best friend. Dream was the best person he’s ever known, he likes to think. There was nothing about the man that was unappealing to George; there was nothing about Dream that he didn’t like. And on top of his gleaming personality, helpful nature, and smooth-as-honey voice, it was no doubt the guy was a god at Minecraft.

He, himself, had a MCC winner’s coin to prove it. Something George didn’t. 

He had to be one of the smartest people George has ever come across, and it almost intimated him since Dream was a few years younger than him. But hell, if you couldn’t be Dream, might as well have him as your best friend. 

George felt like he didn’t deserve Dream most of the time because of how high he was placed on a pedestal, but at the end of the day, it was them two on a Discord call, not anybody else. He was the one that got to see Dream smile and blush, not anybody else. 

When he looked over the last year of their friendship, it was always George and Dream. They built each other up and educated each other on things they knew about. George guesses he figured that with all of the knowledge Dream has bestowed onto him on the block game, he’d do better. 

Now it looks like none of his so-called ‘training’ paid off. He looked like an idiot, in front of the one person he wanted to impress most. 

George leaned forward and pressed his forehead to the cool surface of his desk. He let out a heavy sigh and felt his shoulders slump forward. He had no thoughts in his head, just blank disappointment. George knew that if he hopped on Twitter, he would see chains upon chains of people telling him he did well, but it would be fruitless. 

He pushed back from his desk and walked away from the computer, not wanting to look at it anymore. His phone was heavy in the pocket of his sweatpants, and in hindsight, he should’ve left it on the desk as well. 

George went to his kitchen and poured himself half a glass of water. He was parched from the constant screaming of the event and wanted something soothing for his throat. The cold rush of water down his throat made him feel more awake. It was late for him, the clock on the oven glowing angrily, telling him he should be asleep by now. He ignores it. 

George moved himself to the living room couch and sprawled out. His body, especially his butt, felt so much better on the cushion of the couch rather than the cushion of his gaming chair. It was an immediate weight off and he relaxes into it. 

After he places his glass on the coffee table, he feels his pocket begin to buzz. Pulling out his phone, he sees a FaceTime call from none other than Dream. 

An initial rush of adrenaline pumps through him and is gone as soon as it started. He ruffles his hair and accepts the call. He didn’t know how dark the living room was until he saw himself in the corner of his phone. 

Dream’s own face fills his screen. George can tell he’s still at his computer, the glow illuminating his face. He has on his own dumb merch hoodie and the biggest smile in the world. George swears it stretches from ear to ear. 

He’s leaning back in his chair, his phone propped up against what George can only assume is his monitor. He looks happy and relaxed; something George wishes he was. 

“Woah, are you in a cave?” Dream jokes, his voice sounding like a million dollars. George sighs contently and shakes his head. 

“You’re such an idiot. It’s just dark in here,” he says back. Dream nods. 

“Are you in your room?” Dream asks. 

“Living room,” George replies. 

“Already left? I guess my raid wasn’t big enough for you, huh?” Dream jokes yet again. He’s in such a light and bubbly mood and it’s disgustingly sweet to George. Unfortunately, it’s not enough to make him forget his loss. 

“Just tired,” George says bluntly. Dream’s eyebrows furrow as he realizes George isn’t matching his energy. Nobody would ever know this, but Dream is one of the most expressive people George knew. His face told a story at a thousand words a second, and his hands were always in movement to tell a story unless of course, he was playing a game. 

“You okay? Did you not have fun today?” Dream questions, concerned. George shrugs in response and it’s all Dream needs to know what’s wrong. 

“You know you did really good, right? You guys absolutely dominated today. Hell, your team outdid *mine*, and that’s hard to do,” the fake cockiness leaks from Dream’s voice. George can’t help but crack a smile and shake his head at his friend’s idiotic ways of making him feel better. 

“I guess. But I completely messed up dodge bolt . . . god we were so close,” George mumbles, the sadness returning. 

“George, shut up! You guys totally should’ve won that, you deserved it. But it’s okay that you didn’t win. There’s always next time! You’re so talented and you never give yourself enough credit for it,” it was hard to give himself credit when he was always standing beside Dream. Nobody looks good next to him, he thinks, “I’m so proud of you.”

Heat crawls up George’s neck at the praise. He was glad it was dark on his end so Dream couldn’t see. 

A weight feels gone. It feels like it was lifted up all at once and crushed. It was no longer pushing down on him, making him feel heavy and drowsy. He instead felt bubbly and like he wanted to giggle at nothing. 

George blushes again as he struggles to find any words to say back. He was flustered beyond belief. 

“Did you hear me, George? I’m proud of you.” Dream repeats softly, after not hearing a response back. George melts again, heart growing at the blond’s words. He’s never felt luckier to know Dream. 

George smiles, completely smitten with the boy on his phone. 

“Thank you,”

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is my first work in this fandom and for this ship but i have plenty more up my sleeve.  
> like i said, this could be read as platonic but all of my future works will be blatantly romantic. i’m a sucker for these two.  
> comments and kudos are always much appreciated but not necessary! criticism is welcome!  
> stay hydrated and please vote!


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